


Feather-soft

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Aran threw his bag in the back then slid into the passenger seat. And there was his oasis sight of Shinsuke, striking him as potently as it had the first time, composed, fresh and beautiful. “So good to see you,” he murmured, and reached across for a kiss.He smelt of the warm earth, of the spring breeze in his hair, of new leaves and fresh grass, and something sharp, something musky that was entirely Shinsuke.“It’s good to see you, too,” Shinsuke replied and ran his fingertips down Aran’s cheek. “I know it’s only been a month, but it feels longer.”
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72
Collections: Arankita Week 2020





	Feather-soft

**Author's Note:**

> written for AranKita week using the prompt pets ... sort of.

Knowing Shinsuke would be here soon, Aran waited by the coach stop, sat on a bench and stretched out to bask in the late spring sunshine. He didn’t mind the wait. It gave him a chance to shake off the fug from the bus and to enjoy the country air with its gentle breeze, rather than the polluted shimmer in Osaka. It was quiet here, too, something he could never quite get used to, yet deeply appreciated every time he dropped by.

He wasn’t waiting long. The sound of the truck, familiar now, meant he didn’t even jerk to attention but stayed where he was basking, a slow smile creeping across his face.

“Hey,” drawled a voice. “Someone need a ride?”

“Uh, sure,” Aran replied, opening one eye, half expecting to see the driver sporting a Stetson tilted over one eye. “Where we headin’, farm boy?”

“If I said Heaven, would you believe me?”

Aran’s laugh erupted from within. “My God! Kita Shinsuke, you’re getting smooth in your old age.”

“I’m offended it’s only now you find me smooth.”

Grinning, Aran threw his bag in the back then slid into the passenger seat. And there was his oasis sight of Shinsuke, striking him as potently as it had the first time, composed, fresh and beautiful. “So good to see you,” he murmured, and reached across for a kiss.

He smelt of the warm earth, of the spring breeze in his hair, of new leaves and fresh grass, and something sharp, something musky that was entirely Shinsuke.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Shinsuke replied and ran his fingertips down Aran’s cheek. “I know it’s only been a month, but it feels longer.”

“We’ve both been busy, maybe that’s why.”

“Yup.” He sighed and started up the motor. “But I am sorry I missed your games.”

“Shinsuke, it’s fine, y’know. I don’t need you to be at every match. It’s not like I can be your cheer squad when you’re farming.”

“Hmm, true, but …” He slowed to turn a corner. “I’d planned to, but things got hectic. Osamu said you looked good out there.”

“I’m enjoying it,” he replied, and settled back in the seat. “Falcons are my type of team. Soooo, tell me about life, Shinsuke. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“The usual.” He rolled his shoulders.

“Tell me, though. I like hearing you talk.”

“Well, the ducklings hatched.”

“Mmm.”

“And like I said, it’s Granny’s pet project, but then she weren’t well.”

“Yeah, you said. She’s fine now, right?”

Shinsuke pursed his lips. “Nothing too serious, but she needed the rest, so I took over.”

“Musta been hard.”

“You know me. I prepare for every eventuality.” He pressed his foot on the accelerator, enjoying the open road.

“Worrying, then.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “It was a little. Granny’s not one for stayin’ in bed, but she had to.”

“You know you coulda called me. I’d have come over.”

Shaking his head, Shinsuke puffed out a small breath. “It was two days, that’s all. You were travelling to Hiroshima for your game, and besides, she’s fighting fit now and chuntering ‘cause she missed some of them hatchin’.”

“Takes it seriously, then?”

“It was her idea. She and Granddad always had ducks, but they stopped a while back.”

He changed the subject, perhaps more worried about his Grandma than he wanted to reveal, and began to question Aran about Osaka and what he’d been up to.

“Looking for an apartment, mainly,” he confessed, pausing until he saw Shinsuke arch one eyebrow. “Like I told you, it’s been fine boarding—”

“Especially getting your meals cooked.”

Aran smiled self-deprecatingly, knowing he wasn’t the best cook. “That too. But I want my own space.”

“Understandable. As long as you don’t live on takeaways all the time.”

“Okay, momma,” he teased, flashing him a grin. “Think Granny’ll give me lessons?”

“She’d be delighted. How’s the search going?”

“Uh… it’s over. I found somewhere yesterday and put a deposit down.”

There was no reaction, at least nothing visceral, except for a contented hum as they reached the side road which led to the farm.

“Make sure to invite me to the housewarming,” was all he said. “And get Osamu to do the catering, just in case Granny ain’t brought you up to speed.”

With a chuckle, Aran relaxed back into his seat. “Would it be tempting fate to invite the twins?”

“Tempting your security deposit, maybe,” Shinsuke replied, and as they turned down a dirt track, he honked the horn three times.

“I hope that’s the sign to let Granny know to put the kettle on,” Aran joked, and licked his lips thinking of the cakes she usually baked for his arrival.

“That’s one reason,” Shinsuke replied. “The other is … uh … a little more troublesome.”

“Oh?” He blinked. “I’m joking, you know. Is she still not well?”

“She’s fine. We have another guest.” A smile played on his lips, small and secretive, his eyes glinting a little. “Who’s a bit of an escape artist.”

Knowing he’d get no more out of him, Aran focused his attention on the scene ahead, waiting for the farmhouse to hove into view and behind that the first sign of the rice fields. He’d been coming here since he was fifteen, invited by Shinsuke one summer. They’d spent a week running around the farm, helping out, but also exploring beyond, climbing trees, fording streams and camping under the stars. That summer, they’d forged a stronger connection, a friendship based on something other than school. Yet when he’d returned to Inarizaki, volleyball had seemed that bit fresher, as if the rarefied air had touched a reset button in his mind.

Granny was by the door when they drove up, and Aran wound down his window to give her a wave and a wide smile. Surprised she didn’t give her usual cheerful wave back, he looked closer to discover she was holding something, a something that as they got out the car, Aran noticed was wriggling in her hands.

“What on earth—” He peered closer and then twisted to face Shinsuke. “Is that your escape artist?”

“It is,” Shinsuke replied as they strode forwards.

“It’s a duckling! I thought they were all in the fields by now.”

“Takao would disagree,” Shinsuke laughed. “Shortly after he hatched, he damaged his leg—a literal lame duck—he couldn’t get to the food as quick as the others so I brought him inside.”

“You took him under your wing. Badum tish!”

“Ha ha. Yes, I did. Anyway, Takao now believes he’s human and prefers the kitchen floor to the paddy field.”

He stopped before his grandmother, taking the duckling in his hands, whilst Aran bowed low to greet her, then surrendered himself up to her sloppy kiss on his cheek, squeezing his face as she scolded him for looking ‘too thin’.

“I’m really not,” he told her, and delved into his bag before handing over a box of her favourite sweets. She looked much the same as the last time he’d seen her, save for some deepening shadows under her eyes, but he returned the kiss and didn’t let his smile falter. “You look well.”

“I am,” she replied, crinkling her eyes as she glanced at Shinsuke, “whatever my grandson might have told you.”

“I am allowed to be concerned when someone doesn’t rest when they’re supposed to,” Shinsuke replied a faint note of reproof in his voice. And lifting the duckling to his face, he blew gently on its fluffy feathers. “Has he eaten?”

“A little.”

“Then I should take him to meet his brothers and sisters for a swim. Does no good to molly-coddle him.” He met Aran’s eyes. “Want to join me? There’s a pair of boots your size inside the doorway.”

He nodded, dumping his bag just inside the back door and slid on the boots, With a last bow to Granny, Aran walked a pace behind, easing out a breath through his teeth. Over Shinsuke’s shoulder, he could see the duckling, an elongated ball of dowdy brown fluff with a long beak, preening itself against his shirt, and he was caught by the fondness of Shinsuke’s expression.

“He’s cute,” Aran murmured, and reached out with his finger to stroke the duckling on its head.

“Don’t assign him a personality. He’s a duck.”

“Hey, you’re the one that’s given him a name.”

“Granny did that.”

“Admit it, you’re fond.”

“He’s livestock. An essential part of the rice farming ecosystem,” Shinsuke replied.

“So are you,” Aran said.

“What?”

“An essential part of the rice farming ecosystem,” Aran repeated, and booped him on the nose. “And _you’re_ also cute.”

“Now who’s smooth?”

They’d reached the field, trudging through the designated paths, and as he walked, Aran could hear the faint sounds of the other ducklings, a crowd of whom were dipping their beaks into the water in search of food in the shallow streams.

Crouching down, Shinsuke lowered the duckling into the water, patted him on the head, and then ruffled the water around him. But instead of moving forwards, the duckling used his wings and feet to stay resolutely where he was.

“Peep!” He sounded rather sad to Aran’s ears.

“Come on,” Shinsuke encouraged and flicked some water around him. “You need to paddle. Build up the strength in your foot.”

“Peep.”

Some of the other ducklings approached, intrigued by the newcomer in their field and maybe by the presence of the two benign giants.

“Look,” said Aran, also crouching down. “There’s some buddies for you, Takao. They want to play,”

“You’re anthropomorphizing again,” Shinsuke chuckled, and picking up the duckling he placed him closer to the others. “There, he’ll be fine now. At least for a bit, and I can check on him—”

“Peep!”

Takao had pedalled furiously away and back to Shinsuke’s ankle, waddling onto his boot.

“Haa. You know who he is?”

“It is a duckling.”

“No, it’s Atsumu, not wantin’ to join in with the others. Shame you ain’t got an Osamu around to kick him into touch.”

Shinsuke said nothing, but chewed his lip as he thought. “Maybe it’s too soon and his foot’s still sore. Shouldn’t force the pace.”

“Yeah, you think he’s Atsumu, too.”

“What?”

“You gonna make him a teeny care package next?” Aran said laughing as he ruffled Shinsuke’s hair. “So, what’s the verdict? Are we leaving him here, or is he joinin’ us for Granny’s tea and cakes?”

The duckling dabbled his beak in the water surrounding Shinsuke’s boot, chirruped a little more, then slipped off, flipping towards the other ducklings.

“Small things,” Shinsuke said, with satisfaction. “Now if we can ease away, really slowly, then…”

But when the other ducklings noticed the newcomer had returned, three staring but not approaching, as if forming a wall to foil even the most cunning setter/spiker combo, Takao changed direction, circling until he found another haven.

Aran’s boot.

“Peep.”

And he couldn’t resist, could not deny the very human urge inside of him to protect, and defying Shinsuke’s stare, Aran bent down and scooped him into his hands. “You are a sweetheart,” he crooned and let Takao peck his nose.

Kita sighed. “Granny’s cake it is then.”

“So he’s back.”

“Yes, Granny,” Shinsuke replied, nodding towards Aran. “This one here was too soft to leave him.”

“Ah, it was Aran’s fault was it?” She chuckled, and took the duckling from Aran’s hands and back into the kitchen. “You know what’s happened, Shin-chan.”

Sitting on the steps, Shinsuke pulled off his boots, avoiding her stare.

“What’s happened, then?” Aran asked, filling the void and hoping he sounded innocent rather than mischievous.

“It happens with baby animals and birds all the time. First face he saw was Shinsuke’s,” she replied. “And now Takeo can’t take his eyes off him. It’s an imprint.”

“That’s nonsense!” Shinsuke muttered. “Not scientifically proven.”

She laughed and whisked Takeo away to a bowl of already prepared oatmeal and grain.

Aran sat on the step next to Shinsuke.

“She _is_ talking nonsense,” Shinsuke repeated.

“Oooh, I don’t know ‘bout that,” Aran whispered and ran his fingers through Shinsuke’s silky hair, marvelling as he traced the planes of his face, the feather-soft skin, and the bow of his lips. “You have that effect, you know?”

“You’re biased,” Shinsuke replied, and pressed his lips in Aran’s palm.

But Aran shook his head. “First time we met, back when we were fifteen. We were surrounded by all those volleyball guys, great players, ones I was _so_ proud to join, had watched in utter awe, and yet … that first day, all I could see was you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The duckling is named after Takao Furuno who, Wiki tells me, is a Japanese farmer, social entrepreneur, philanthropist, private aid volunteer, and architect of the Aigamo duck-rice culture method.  
> Granny's having a little joke. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
